


There We Go Fort Benning

by cferre



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-28 00:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cferre/pseuds/cferre
Summary: They were ready to go to Atalanta and show they were worthy of those fucking wings, they wanted the boots and they wanted to put their pants inside their boots. But first, they had a new test to overcome. Colonel Sink had read an article that said that a battalion of the Japanese army had broken a new world record of march resistance. Colonel Sink had bet the world that his battalion could do it better.





	1. Reader's Diget

 

Tomorrow was going to be the last day they would spend in the Toccoa camp. They had finished basic training and were ready to go to Atlanta to become real paratroopers. The emotion ran through every inch of his skin, smiles full of pride were drawn on their faces, eyes lit by a special glow that indicated they were ready to give their best, they were willing to go to war. They were satisfied with what they had achieved so far, but they wanted more; They were ready to go to Atalanta and show they were worthy of those fucking wings, they wanted the boots and they wanted to put their pants inside their boots.

That night there was a great atmosphere in the dining room, which had nothing to do with the food they were served. The cooks did not have much good reputation among the soldiers. Among animated voices, conversations from one table to another, joyful shouts, jokes and scandalous laughter; They made predictions about what they would do in the Fort Benning camp, what would it be like, they wondered what the trainings would be like there, if the training sessions were harder than they had done until the moment, they commented on the desire to jump from an airplane and what would be the sensations. But, above all, they wondered, jokingly, if they were going to have another Currahee there to go up every day.

“If it does not have three miles of rise and three of descent, I do not want to know absolutely nothing.” George Luz clarified to his companions. “Do you imagine Sobel shouting anything other than "three miles up, three miles down"?”

“Shout? I thought that he, rather, bellowed.” Want to participate Penkala, despite being in the middle of another conversation.

“Also, but that has nothing to do with it. I do not want to give Sobel a bad time having to think of another epic phrase.”

"What really worries me, are the cooks who will be there, do you think they will know how to cook or will they be as bad as these?” Perconte intervened, his mouth full of food. It seemed that he was afraid that someone would steal his food.

“It's you, they give you a different meal. They do not like you.”

“Don't lie to him, Malarkey.” Luz spoke again. “Nobody likes Perconte. We only hold him because it's funny, look at him.” He pointed at him with his hands, smiled amused and looked with complicity at Malarkey and Penkala. He started some laughter from those who were sitting closest to them and were attentive to the conversation.

Perconte ignored him and limited himself to filling his mouth with a large amount of food, he did it in the most coarse way he was capable of. He chewed, pruposely, with his mouth full and rejoiced in the complaints of his friends. His cheeks were swollen and the food was overflowing out. They asked him to please stop. George Luz threw him a piece of bread hitting full on his face, which was not too complicated considering that he had him sitting right in front.

“You're disgusting Perconte. If I could I would crush you with my boots right now and rid the world of your horrifying presence.”

Perconte chewed again in that unpleasant way that made George Luz shudder and looked away laughing, decided that he better joined the conversation of Malarkey, Penkala and Joe Toye. Perconte was a good opponent and that would never deny it.

While all this was happening, in Colonel Sink's office, under a thick and dense curtain of tobacco smoke and cigars, a meeting was being held. Colonel Sink had gathered all the officers of the second battalion. The first thing he had done, when he had them all sitting at the elegant table, was dropping Reader's Diget magazine of that month. It was one of Colonel Sink's favourite magazines and he never missed any volume. The officers looked at each other; they did not know very well what to do, how to react or what they should say. What did that special magazine have? Was there something on the cover of the magazine that they should have seen and overlooked? Did the magazine talk about them? If the magazine talked about them, was it bad or good? Was the magazine talking about the war? Did the magazine talk about the Germans? They were a little afraid of looking at Colonel Sink and that he saw they were completely lost, although they had to admit that they were also a little afraid of not looking at him and that he saw them as disoriented as a fish out of water. They did not know where to look.

Nixon glanced at Colonel Sink, assuring himself that he did not have the attention on his person. He brought the cigar to his lips and took a deep drag. The colonel looked at everyone, he was relaxed, he did not seem upset because nobody said anything or knew what all this was about. Moreover, it seemed that he was quietly looking for the best words to tell them something or waiting for the best moment or opportunity. Winters was the person who dared to take the magazine and look at it.

“Page twelve. In the center pages you will find an article about a battalion of the Japanese army that has established a world record of march resistance.” Colonel Sink already had the attention of all the officers. From the second zero that the magazine had fallen on the table, as if it were a sack of potatoes, none had dared to breathe, to blink, to make a simple movement to settle into the chair; but now everyone was, if it was possible, more attentive. Captain Sobel pulled Winters' magazine out of his hands and dipped his head into it. "One hundred and sixty kilometres in seventy-two hours.” He looked at all his officers in a slow and penetrating way.

Silence again. They did not know what he wanted them to do. It was amazing what those Japanese had done but, now what? Some of them looked with some suspicion and caution at Colonel Sink, they began to have a little idea about what he meant by all that. They preferred not to talk; they did not want to confirm their fears.

“These japs are amazing.” A flurry of murderous glances hit the chest of the officer who had spoken.

“They are.” Said the colonel. Sobel was still reading the article. “But my men can do it much better.” Declared. Forced smiles were drawn on the lips of some of his officers. That's it, it had already touched them. “The second battalion can do it. We can do so much better than those fucking Japs.”  The nasal voice and with strong southern accent of Colonel Sink sounded blunt.

“Can count on it, Colonel.” Major Strayer assured to him, although the Colonel had not given any instructions. But it did not matter. It was the confirmation that Colonel Sink wanted to hear. He smiled on his side.

"The men of the second battalion will walk the stretch from here to Atlanta. We will do the necessary diffusion so that everyone can see the physical preparation of the second battalion.” He informed them. “We'll make public the route they will take and the cities and towns they will cross, for anyone who wants to follow them, they can do it.”

Hebert Sobel separated the nose from the magazine to pay attention to the Colonel's explanation. He wrote down everything mentally. He was staring at him. He wanted him to know that could count on it. His men were more than ready to do it, they would be up to what was expected of them and none of them would be left behind. They had passed the tests, would not allow them to leave their reputation as captain or the name of the Easy Company. It was the best company in the entire second battalion and he was going to prove it.

"Tomorrow," Colonel Sink resumed his speech. “we will gather the men of the second battalion to inform them. We will depart on December 1 at seven in the morning. Not a minute before, not a minute later. I want the men ready at six hours and thirty minutes.” He went back to all his officers with his eyes. As it fell on one of them, they nodded slightly to let him know that it was clear. “Well, tomorrow I will give you more information. You can retire.”

Nobody asked any questions. They got up at once and left the office. Until the door was not closed behind them they did not relax, sighed and relaxed their bodies. They looked at each other regretting their luck and now they began to comment and express their opinion. The lights of the streetlamps had been lit and signalling the way, the gravel crunched under their feet as they walked away.

“We will be lucky if the machine guns and the mortars do not shoot by accident and hit us in the chest.” Nixon commented to Winters as he lit a cigarette. Even though he knew he was going to refuse, he offered one to his partner and friend.

“Why do you say that? It will be like going for a walk.” Ironized Winters. “Who does not like to walk?”

“Anyone who has to carry the official equipment and is inside the mortar squadron or who has to carry machine guns. You know, little details that throw you back.” A grimace like a smile played on Winters' lips. Nixon patted his back and told him to go for a last drink that night. “Make me company since you will not drink.” Laugh. “I have a secret stash.”

Even with the excitement and exaltation of leaving Toccoa and going to Fort Benning to become true paratroopers running through his veins, a group of soldiers could not sleep. They were in one of the barracks with the lights on, lying on the beds and still talking, joking, laughing, smoking and playing cards. That nobody ask them how they did it, nor did they know it themselves, but Bill Guarnere and George Luz had gotten a few bottles of beer that they shared with their classmates and they were drinking right then and there. They were still unaware of Colonel Sink's plans for them to make the entire trip to Atlanta on foot.

“I promise, that girl had the biggest breasts I've ever seen. They did not fit in my hand.” Represented Smokey, being thus the cause of the laughter of his companions. -What I would give to see her again. You can’t imagine it.

“You'd give your parachutist's salary.” He raised his eyebrows Guarnere.

“Uf, I'd think about it a little.” He was in silent for a few seconds, looked at Shifty and Guarnere and smiled full of amusement. “What the fuck, of course.” Smokey exclaimed, shook his hand with Shifty Powers. Guarnere laughed clapping.

“Malarkey, why would you give your parachutist salary?” Guarnere caught his attention. Calling Malarkey, attracted the attention of Muck and Penkala. “Smokey would give it for a girl with very large breasts. I would give my paratrooper salary for killing Sobel, I swear, because I could shoot him between both eyes.”

“I would give my paratrooper salary for a fucking bed in conditions and a pillow more.” Malarkey pleaded, looking up at the ceiling as if God were there and he was praying to him. “I have been saying it since we arrived; it seems that they have taken the beds from a landfill.”

“I did not know you were a believer, Malarkey.” Guarnere scoffed.

“It does not work like that? You do not ask for something when you want and that's it.” He looked at his companions bewildered. There was a smile on his lips. They laughed.

“I would give my paratrooper salary to go to the Pacific.” Wanted to make his contribution Penkala. “Beach, surf, natives, coconuts, sun, sand, Hawaiian skirts, swim among the fish and flower shirts.”

“And that rescue you a mermaid and have a passionate romance with her, you do not want it Penkala.” Guarnere scoffed as he took the cigar to his lips.

“I would not say no, really.” He shrugged, really valued that possibility.” Can I still ask for it?” Laughs again.

“How do you think the sirens are? I imagine a beautiful girl, with very long hair, with the breasts of the girl from Smokey free” he represented them with her hands “and her tail, of course.” Guarnere added quickly.

“Mermaids? They have told me that they are horrible and ugly bugs that cut your neck as soon as they can.” George Luz landed at that moment to the conversation.

“How are they going to be horrible and ugly bugs?” Penkala was outraged, they were going to break his new fantasy and he was not going to allow it.

“Have you ever seen someone who has met a mermaid? Alive.”

“And who tells the stories of mermaids then? Besides, in no story of mermaids they’re horrible and ugly bugs that cut the neck of the sailors. They are always beautiful girls who sing like angels.” Penkala continued to defend with determination.

“Do you think there will be mermen?” Malarkey interjected.

“Mermen?” He raised a curious, half-amused eyebrow, Smokey.

“Of course, mermaids but in masculine.”

“What they would want mermen for? They already have us. Besides, it would be like an aberration of nature. Can you imagine it?”

"A big, ugly thing with a lot of hair on his chest, a beard, red hair, a mermaid tail and smoking cigars underwater? I did not know that Bull was a mermaid.” Luz teased. Bull was not there to defend himself or to be able to reproach, he slept in another barracks but the next day he would find out about it, all the companions, and the same Luz, would take care of it.

“Thanks, Smokey and Luz, now I'll have nightmares all night. I no longer want a mermaid, what if I was rescued by a Bull being a mermaid.” A chill ran through Penkala's body reacting to her imagination. His companions laughed at him. “You have killed my new fantasy.”

“Don’t you want to go to the Pacific anymore?” They were still bothering.

“Not at all. I don’t want that a merman that looks like Bull rescue me from a false drowning to attract mermaids.”

“By the way, I think Bull would not be the worst merman we could find, you imagine a squalid and skinny merman like Perconte.” Luz threw the pillow to Perconte, who was in his bed writing to his family, shortly it would be his little sister's birthday and he wanted the letter to arrive on time. He ignored them, he kept the pillow for him, then he would take it back to Luz.

“And one like Guarnere?” Malarkey, with a sly smile on his lips while looking at his partner, wanted to make his contribution to the conversation

“Enough.” Penkala pleaded, holding his hands to her ears. He did not want to hear anything else on that subject. “I do not want any more traumas. My mind can’t stand all this. It is delicate.”

“Hitler in the form of a mermaid, that's a real mermaid.” Luz intervened once again a few seconds later.

The looks of his companions were of total perplexity, they did not know how to react to that, to that idea that had formed in their imagination. Smokey blinked. A strange and terrifying silence had overtaken them. A feeling they could not describe was hovering above their heads. They looked at each other somewhat worried. They wondered how they had reached that point in the conversation and if there was anything more than beer in the bottles that Guarnere and Luz had brought. Marlakey worried stared at the glass bottle for a few seconds.

“Luz go to sleep.” Smokey threw his pillow at him. “You're disgusting.”

“I do not want to talk about mermaids anymore. I do not know how I'm going to look at the Germans now.”

“You do not have to look at them Penkala, you have to kill them.” Guarnere reminded him with a tone of obviousness, he was half lying on his bed, he settled completely.

“But I will have to look at them to know if they are Germans or not.” He replied with the same tone of obviousness.

"Everything that has a ridiculous moustache is German. You do not have to look at them too much. Besides, they have no sense of humour.”

“All the Germans wear a moustache?”

“It will be part of your uniform or something, right?”

“Go to sleep too, Guarnere.” Malarkey laughed at him while shaking his head.

“You, all, should go to sleep, this are the most ridiculous conversations I've ever heard.” Joe Toye told them from his bed, he had been trying to sleep for half an hour. He had come to cover his head with the pillow trying to put a wall between the noise and his ears. It had not been Joe Toye's day, he was not felling very well until diner and was in a bad mood for that.

“Hey, Guarnere, how do you know that Germans have no sense of humor?” Smokey ignored Joe Toye.

“He did not laugh at my jokes.”

“Nobody laughs at your jokes, Guarnere.” Joe Toye intervened again from his bed, his back was turned and he seemed to have no intention of turning around. He had rolled his eyes but nobody saw him. “Go to sleep, stupid.”

“Fuck you, Toye” Guarnere answered them, although he did not lose his good humour.

Ten minutes later, and little by little, everyone began to go to sleep. Finally Joe Toye got the silence he wanted and that the barracks was plunged into complete darkness to be able to fall asleep and thus be able to rest. He wanted to be well when he woke up and be able to participate again in everything with his companions. That night, not only Joe Toye slept peacefully, quietly, relaxed and carefree; they all did. Tomorrow would be another day.


	2. The day before

 

 

The great news of Colonel Sink did not sit too well among the men of the second battalion. That morning, like a normal day when they woke up, they had had the usual training sessions and had climbed back into the Currahee as they did every morning since they had arrived in Toccoa. At the end, and after having been able to take a shower before going to eat, they had been trained by giving them the important news. It had fallen like a bucket of cold water on top of the men of the second battalion but none of them showed it publicly, their faces were impassive. Moreover, when asked if it was clear and if they were prepared to destroy and trample the record of the Japanese had shouted in chorus "yes sir." What happened when the officers turned their backs on them was something else entirely different. The excitement over the special food they had been told they had, because it was the last day they would spend in the Toccoa camp, had disappeared and they could not enjoy it as much as they would have liked. There was a different atmosphere in the dining room. The first battalion and the third battalion already knew that they would go by train to Fort Benning directly, and others to Atlanta. They had to be on their feet and ready to leave at six o'clock; they were animated, happy and their illusion was still intact. The atmosphere in the part of the dining room occupied by the second battalion was not as cheerful as usual.

"We'll never get to Atlanta, we'll never get to Fort Benning and we'll never be a fucking paratrooper.” Joe Toye cursed; physically he was, already, much better after having slept; now his problem was another. "We should stop Sobel from taking the map.”

“That's what worries you? I have to carry a mortar during the whole trip and Smokey the machine gun.” Malarkey complained. “Stupid Japs, who orders them to do nothing.”

“I suppose a bloody colonel.”

“Someone should teach them that nothing happens if they don’t do anything. That is not bad.” Toye talked again. “We would have avoided a world war. The Germans should also learn this.”

“I don’t want to fuck up your party, but the one who has it better is Roe, he doesn’t have to carry anything.” Roe glanced at Guarnere, raised his eyebrows asking if he meant it. “What happen?”

“I have to carry all of you, I'm the one who has the worst, I'm sorry Malarkey, I win.” Roe said it with such a natural tone that they did not know, at first, if they could laugh or not. They did not know if he was joking or meant it. Guarnere was the first to laugh at Eugene Roe's comment, patted his back and shook his head.

“Why is always us, the second battalion, is what I can’t understand.” Rejected Toye, unable to hear anything else. “At this rate we will have the worst fate when we enter into war. We have a kind of shit.”

“That is clear, we have to put up with you.” Guarnere mocked.

“You are going to depress us all.” Roe complained.

“Speak for you, I'm already depressed. One hundred ninety kilometres in three days.” Alex Penkala had just arrived at the table. Malarkey had saved him a place, both, him and Skip Muck.

“They have taken the longest route they have found. We have been calculating it before.” Skip Muck reported. “There is someone who doesn’t want us to become a parachutist, we have reached this conclusion.”

“No, it’s just you”. He tossed a piece of bread Guarnere to Muck. He just winked coquettishly before taking a big mouthful.

“The thing is; fucking Japs. They deserve to be beaten.”

“You should be happy. I heard that Colonel Sink is going to make a great publicity about us. We should be grateful to the Japs, we will be stars. Do you think I can make a movie after this?” George Luz sat at the table.

Alex Penkala looked distrustfully at his plate of food. In theory it was a special meal, something that should whet your appetite. It must have been a party for the palate, but it was not clear to him. He was not too sure about what food was going to be eaten. He took a piece to his mouth, suspicious. He chewed slowly. He swallowed. He shrugged. It could be much worse and he did not know anything to say if it was good or not. It was like eating water. The water has no flavour. Or plastic.

"It had always been my dream to be Colonel Sink's fair monkey. I can say more, I've volunteered for this.” Toye snorted. Guarnere threw him a piece of bread in protest and to shut him up.

“Eat and shut up, Toye.”

“I promise that I can see Sobel and Strayer getting nicked and that we still have not left Toccoa. Fucking peacocks.”

“Do you think Sobel will arrive?” A malicious smile, and with a certain tone of mockery, was drawn on Guarnere's lips. He leaned forward, rested his arms on the table. He had set aside his tray, it was empty.

“I would give anything for him to get lost along the way.” Malarkey muttered resentfully, surprised everyone. Donald Malarkey was a person who had no evil in him.

“I bet half of my next salary that Sobel does can’t arrive without help.” George Luz made the first bet. He started the round on the whole table.

“He gets lost.” Guarnere scoffed.

“Penkala and I say that he does not arrive.” Muck made his contribution.

“The same as Guarnere.” Laughed Toye.

“He will not arrive; I hope he does not arrive.” Malarkey said.

“Roe, your turn.” Luz encouraged him.

“He will come with help.” He said without thinking too much. A hint of a smile had formed on his lips.

“Roe you are a broken illusion.” Malarkey complained.

“How's the dessert?” Penkala asked, out of nowhere, causing all her companions to laugh at that sudden change in the conversation. Luz warned him to start looking too much like Perconte and that he should spend less time with him.

Throughout the afternoon the whole Company had been betting on whether Sobel would arrive in Atlanta or not. Some member of the Fox Company and the Dog Company also decided to bet. They hid the money, from the bet, in an envelope, from an old letter that some of them had received, and they made Jonh Martin responsible for it. None of them questioned that decision, everyone accepted it without problems, they knew that all the money would reach Atlanta. Except Martin. He complained for a few long minutes because he did not want to carry so much money with him, but finally accepted and ended up betting, which he had not done yet, because to him it did not seem too correct. Now they only had to make sure that Sobel, or any other superior, didn’t know about the bet. It frightened the speed with which the bet for the second battalion had spread and worried them too. But they forgot about it as quickly as the bet had spread. It was much more entertaining to speculate about the officers and in what state they would arrive in Atlanta and place bets between the different companies.

In the middle of the afternoon the soldiers returned to their barracks to pack all their belongings in the bag and to leave ready what they would need. During the first part of the afternoon, their superiors enlarged the information about the march they were going to carry out and distributed material to them.

“How am I going to walk if I have to carry so many things?” Joe Toye began again with his flurry of complaints.

“The next of you I hear complaining about everything you have to carry, I'll hit you with the mortar.” Malarkey warned everyone, he looked at them very seriously, wanted to let them see that he meant it.

“Careful, or instead of with the mortar you will hit us with your socks because of all the things you are going to wear. You will not be able to find it.” Penkala scoffed, he hit him with one of his lonely socks that his partner lacked.”

The whole barrack was a complete chaos, it was normal that Penkala, or nobody, would find anything. They had all the messy clothes thrown over the beds and the floor. It was the last chance they had if they needed something to wash or they had lost something they had to recover.

“Now you'll see.” Malarkey picked up the first piece of clothing he found over his bed and walked out behind Penkala.

They had to dodge their companions, the belongings of their companions and the beds. They had to listen to their complaints and ignore them, they had to answer their comments and they had to face those who wanted to beat them with their clothes; Apart from chasing each other and getting involved in that fight of clothes.

“It's not fair! I go with a sock and you with a shirt.” Penkala complained. He had realized that it was more complicated for him to get close to Malarkey and be able to hit him. His companion just laughed and kept attacking.

“Fuck you, it is so that you go preparing for when I hit you with the mortar for idiot.”

They were chasing each other until Carwood Lipton warned them that in a half hour they would come to inspect the bedrooms to make sure they were decent and collected and that they had everything ready for tomorrow. They did not want in the last minute any inconvenience that delayed the departure of the second battalion from Toccoa Camp or that could change the plans.

At the end of the inspection, they ordered all the soldiers of the Easy Company to be made with brooms and mops and to clean their barracks up and down. They did not want to see a speck of dust on them.

“Dirty barrack, clean barrack.” Luz imitated Sobel with his best caricature and representation of his phrase "three miles going up, three miles down". Luz was in charge of following Perconte around the barracks with the dustpan.

“You want to stop following me.” Perconte was speaking in a very serious tone while grouping the dirt with the broom.

“I can’t, your beauty clouds me. I need to follow you wherever you go to breathe. I have realized that I am nothing without you.” Luz responded theatrically. Perconte, with the broom, pushed the garbage that had been piled in a single point towards the dustpan.

“It's the most romantic thing I've ever lived. You have left me without words.” He spoke in a cloying tone.

“There you have left something.” Luz pointed to a spot next to a leg of the bed. “And there. And there, too.” He pointed to several points on the floor.

“You're going to swallow the broom.” He threatened by showing him the broom before returning to sweep the floor.

At another point in the room Guarnere and Joe Toye were cleaning the dust, or trying. They said that it was impossible, that when they passed the cloth the dust reappeared and that it was useless, a complete waste of time. Guarnere was about to throw the cloth through the window. Malarkey and Smokey also swept. Muck and Penkala scrubbed the floor, but it looked more like they were flooding it; Shifty went behind them cleaning what they did wrong. Skinny and Hoobler also cleaned up the dust or fights with the cloths, rolled them up and engaged in beating with them. They played more than they cleaned and that made Guarnere shriek, more than once, angry and wanted to leave them planted with dust. But nobody wanted to change their tasks with those of Guarnere. Nobody knew where Liebgott was.

It took more than an hour and a half to finish cleaning the barracks and even so they had the feeling that Sobel gave them approval in spite of themselves. He looked at five different pieces of furniture, running his index finger over them, if there was any dust remaining; he had Winters checking if it was clean under all the beds and scanned every little corner for any trace of dirt. They formed at the foot of their beds and looked to the front, out of the corner of their eyes they looked at the officers and studied their facial responses to see how the inspection went more or less. They did not know if that helped them to feel calmer or more nervous, but it was better to look at nothing or look at each other, because their laughter escaped them.

“Remember that tomorrow we leave at seven o'clock, at six and fifteen minutes must be forming with the official uniform and his bag. Rest.” Lieutenant Winters informed them before leaving the barracks and following Captain Sobel and the rest of the officers. They were going to continue the inspection.

When they were alone they waited a few seconds to make sure the officers were far enough and could not hear them. When they were given the order to rest they never did it at the same second, they always gave a few seconds of margin.

“Six and fifteen should we be forming? And what will we do until seven and we leave?”

“Listen to how Sobel takes away the passes we do not have because we do not have the equipment correctly.” Muck replied dropping into his bed. The surface was filled with wrinkles.

“Have cold.” Added Penkala.

“Being sleepy.” Made his contribution Skinny.

"Damn to have you standing there with all the equipment in tow.” Said Smokey.

“Want that first battalion and the second have an accident with the train.” It was Hoobler's turn.

“Want to be in the first or the second battalion to go by train.”

“Mentally killing and murdering Strayer and Sobel.”

“Wish that the Japs die in a slow and painful way because they are the guilty that we have to walk to Atlanta.”

“Try not to sleep while we train. Do not yawn and wish that nothing bites you because you will not be able to scratch yourself.” Spoke Luz.

“Understand. I can do many things.” Guarnere lit a cigarette. Like Muck, he had dropped himself in his bed anyway.

“I do not think they have us standing there for forty-five minutes without doing anything.” It was Perconte, thoughtful, who made his contribution to the conversation.

“I do not think so, either. Surely it is to climb the Currahee one last time before we leave.” It was Malarkey who was laughing this time.

“With the whole team, to make you happy and you can train for the three-day march.” Jeered Guarnere of his friend. Malarkey murdered him with his eyes. He took a cigar out of his cardboard.

“I could not, this time I would accept the help of the ambulance. Not because I can’t, but because it's six in the morning.” Perconte complained.

“A picture of a family before leaving, I'm sure it's for that.” Smokey affirmed with completeness, so much that it seemed that someone important had given him a tip-off.

“If it's for that, I promise you that I'll go back to bed.” Added Joe Toye. They laughed at him, everyone knew he would not go back to bed. One of them, Toye never knew who, threw a pillow to him.

“You do not have balls, Toye.”

“Sobel cut them the first day.” Guarnere scoffed. The pillow they had thrown to Joe Toye now struck against Guarnere's face.

“He does not give me any fear.” He assure to his friends.

“Better get the cards, big man, I have a beating to give you.” Luz scoffed.

“With what money are you going to bet Luz. You owe me twenty dollars.” Muck reminded his friend as he got up from the bed and went to Luz's bed to join the game.

"Perconte, lend me forty bucks."

"One hundred if you want, love."

It was Skinny, finally, who left Luz forty dollars to play and give back to Muck. Nobody understood what logic Luz saw in settling accounts with Muck and getting into debt with Skinny, but even Luz could not explain it clearly, although he said he knew what he was doing. They played until dinner time. At the end of the games, Luz owed forty dollars to Skinny, thirty to Smokey and twenty to Malarkey.

 

 


	3. First Day

 

 

On December 1, on time and under a great expectation, the companies Easy, Dog, Fox and the corresponding battalion headquarters began the march to Atlanta. Each man was loaded with his regulatory equipment and weapons. In spite of knowing it from the previous day, they complained without any problem when they received the order to carry and to start walking. It was bad news for everyone, for riflemen and those in the heavy weapons squad.

While they had been forming, waiting to leave, little and imperceptible drops of rain began to fall. Second to second that rain had become more constant, to the point of becoming a dense and thick curtain of rain that made them difficult to see. It was a freezing rain that burned to the bone. A few minutes later, when they had left Toccoa, that rain had turned into sleet, and little by little it was turned into snow by the low temperatures. That first morning of march was not dawn, at no time was a faint ray of sun, throughout the morning, the sky was dark as the bottom of the ocean, pewter grey, and was troubled like a sea raging.

But the rain, the darkness of the day and the snow were not his only enemies. So was the journey they had to make to get to Atlanta. Of those 190 kilometres that had to travel, 160 were secondary and rural roads without asphalt. Muddy and slippery. They had not made the first break that almost half of the members of the Easy Company had slipped and fallen in the mud, their uniforms had gotten dirty, their faces and hair were muddy and their clothes had become stiff and drenched. They had cursed all the gods. They had killed more than a hundred times with their eyes on both Sobel and Strayer. They counted the minutes for the rest to arrive.

Left, right, left, right, left, right. All marched at the same rate and pace. It was one of the things they had learned at Camp Toccoa. They had learned to act as a unit; they were able to make a turn to the right or a half-turn as if they were one man. Or to go at a brisk pace or at full speed. Or throw yourself body to land to do push-ups. Or shout "yes, sir!" Or "no, sir!" in unison.

“How much left?”  Muck asked to nobody.

“Does anyone know where we are going?” It was Perconte.

“And how much is until the first break? Lipton, you're a sergeant, you have to know something.” Joseph Liebgott criticized; sometimes he had a way of speaking that it could well be that he was stabbing you.

“What makes you think that being a sergeant gives me privileges? I'm walking like you.”

“Wow, so is a big shit being a sergeant.”

“That is what I say. They don’t pay me more than you, I have more work, I’m carrying everything like you and I have to walk with you until Atlanta and being with you every fucking day.” Liebgott and Lipton looked at each other and started to laugh.

“We have already lost?” Perconte asked to Luz between his teeth, staring at the back of Captain Sobel's neck.

“I don’t know, if you see something that is repeated it is that we have lost. Pay attention to your surroundings.”

“Fuck off, there are only trees.”

“Holy shit!” Joe Toye raised his voice, more than he expected. For lucky, none of the officers was close enough to hear him. His leg had sunk, almost halfway, into a muddy area and he could not get it out no matter how hard he tried. Guarnere and Malarkey laughed at him instead of helping him. “Why are we friends. Stupids. Help me” He demanded them. The formation of the Easy Company had been distorted.

“Do you want to help him; we will all laugh together after him when we make rest.” Sergeant Lipton ordered them when he passed by his side.

“When we’re going to stop for the rest?” Malarkey asked as he pulled Joe Toye to help him release his leg. It was the fourth time they had asked him in less than five minutes.

“If someone asks me again when we will rest, he will not sit on his ass.” Sergeant Lipton tried to look as convincing as possible, he did not laugh but everyone around him, and who knew him better, laughed. “Go to hell.” He went on, there was some problem later.

When, finally, they stopped to make the rest it was still snowing. The sky was still overcast and they could not be guided by the position of the sun. The first thing they did, apart from getting rid of all the luggage they were carrying and dropping to the ground in any way because they had already soiled themselves to the eyebrows; was unbuttoning their boots and replacing their socks. To some of them the first scratches were present on the heels and on the toes. They drank water, took off their helmets, tried to wipe away the mud that covered their faces and smoked. They smoked without stopping. They did not need more than five minutes to recover and to joke and laugh again.

“Do you know who I am?” Luz pretended, before a small group of men of the Easy Company, to have been trapped and not be able to get his leg out of the mud. He made everyone laugh. They looked at each other, they said names here, names of the Fox Company, they said names of officers, they imitated with Luz. Luz told them no, no, and no. That they thought a little more, that it was not so complicated to guess. He started again. “Mud up here.” He indicated half thigh. Again it represented someone trying to get his leg stuck in the mud. He pretends to fall. They laugh again at the exaggerated representations of Luz. “Perconte, you have to know, you were right next.”

“It could be anyone, even you.”

“I was being myself.” He was offended, looked at each and every one of his companions exasperated and waved his hand with disdain. “You are a horrible public. I'll go to the Fox or the Dog.” None fellow among the public took it seriously. They laughed again, whistled at him as they joked, applauded, and threw some snow that had accumulated, along with dirt and mud. “I was being serious!” They laughed again. Luz was outraged. “Fuck of everyone.” He took out a cigar and went to sit next to Eugene Roe, who kept material left over after curing blisters.

“Do you have blisters on your feet?” He asked as if he was programmed, he had not looked up.

"I have heart problems, Doc." He brought his free hand to his chest, as if he needed to hold it. Eugene looked up to meet Luz, he had recognized his voice. He raised an eyebrow questioning. “They have broken my heart, all of them.” He pointed at them with the hand that held the cigar and held it to his lips so he could smoke.

“I do not have anything for lovesickness.” He closed the bag and replaced the shoulder strap.

“You're a terrible doctor.”

“And you a lousy comedian.”

“Normal, I enlisted to be a parachutist, not a comedian.” Luz complained falsely outraged. “It’s obvious that I have to look for another company and another doctor.” He looked hurt to Eugene Roe. The doctor smiled sideways.

“I'm not here to listen to your heart problems. Leave me a cigar, c’mon.”

“You can lend me ninety bucks.” Roe looked at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “You know, as an exchange. We’re friends.”

“Who do you owe ninety bucks?”

“I don’t owe ninety bucks. I owe forty to Skinny, thirty to Muck and twenty to Malarkey.”

“Yes, if you said separately seem less.”

“I know. It is the only thing that consoles me. Hey, Liebgott, you have shit in your face, if Sobel saw you, he would make you back crawling on the floor to your house.”

“Shut up, shit eater. Do you have fire? Thank you.” He handed the lighter to Luz and continued on his way. He had needs to cover.

Five minutes later they resumed their march. They walk without a rest until lunchtime. The ground was still slippery and some more soldiers fell during the morning. There was no way for the clothes to dry or for more than five minutes to be clean of mud. The riflemen were tired of changing their rifle position. They no longer knew how to carry it, whether to carry it on the left shoulder, right shoulder, point it up, down, or carry it with both hands.

“Can I shoot my foot?” Perconte lamented.

“The foot? Depending on how, you could still keep walking, better go between your eyes. I can shoot you, if you want.” Liebgott offered smiling.

“Is much time left for the next break? If there's a long way to go, I'll let you shoot me.” Malarkey pleaded.

“We are lucky not to wear the boots yet because I would hate them, if these were my paratrooper boots I would blow them to pieces.”

"Actually, you can hate them; you're doing this for some damn paratrooper boots.” Liebgott reminded Toye.

“And for fifty extra bucks.” Reminded  them Malarkey.

They walked until it was dark and a piece during the night. Throughout the afternoon it had stopped snowing, but in return there, had begun an icy wind that bit the skin and hurt. It forced them to go bent, which further complicated their progress. If it had been for them, they would have abandoned all their equipment miles ago. The wind hit them in the face, they stabbed like knives in their skin, and the uniform did not allow them to hide it no matter how much they raised their uniforms or they shrunk.

“I think if I'm going to let you shoot me.” Perconte whispered to Liebgott after a new strong gust of wind.

“Have you seen how Popeye almost blown away by the wind?” Guarnere scoffed. “It was something like that.” Guarnere pretended that he could not advance and that he was backing because of the wind.

“We should tie Popeye and Perconte to the waist. So they do not fly away.”

“And Skinny too.”

They were walking until twenty-three hours, at that time the battalion had travelled 64 kilometres. Due to the darkness they found it difficult to find the camping area. Among the men of the Easy Company, the whispers had begun and they murmured that it was Sobel who was carrying the map at that moment and that it was strange that they had not been lost before.

“You owe me ten bucks.” Luz whispered to John Martin.

“You owe it to me; it's Strayer who's lost.” He nodded to the captain who consulted his map.

“It is impossible that Strayer has been lost. Shit! The war will end and the salary will not be enough to pay all my debts.” He cursed glaring at his captain and partner.

“How much money do you owe?”

“More than what we charge.” Jon Martin patted his partner's back to comfort him as he laughed.

The campsite was a bare hill, swept by the wind, with no trees, bushes or windbreaks of any kind. The temperature had dropped to 5 ° C. The soldiers hugged themselves to try to preserve the little body heat they still have. It took a while for the shops to be assembled, the wind made the task difficult for them. It caused the canvas to fly off and could not nail the floor. Many of them had thought to sleep without a tent and directly in contact with the ground.

“Fix Popeye, Skinny and Perconte to the ground. Tonight they will fly away as this wind continues.” Liebgott raised his voice.

“As this wind continues, we will all fly away.” Lipton said.

Even though they were not going to fall asleep yet, the first thing they did, again, was take off their boots. Many of them defined it as the best sensation in the world. It did not matter that the ground was full of stones, cold and muddy. Who had a lot of work were the doctors of all companies. During the breaks they had been doing, throughout the day, they had been attending to soldiers with slight chafing and some blisters on their feet, now there were more soldiers who needed to be taken care of and it was no longer because of superficial road sweepers or blisters in formation.

“What the hell are the cooks doing? And the fucking dinner?” Guarnere hummed, looking at the area where they were trying to light the field kitchens.

“Let me the lighter Shifty. Look how I tremble; it seems that I am dancing.”

“If you dance like this, it's normal that you do not succeed with the girls Muck.”

"You are not successful either. Gordon.” Malarkey laughed.

“It's not for nothing, but the only one that succeeds is Roe.” Guarnere pointed to him with a blow head. Eugene Roe cleaned Hoobler's feet so he could heal a large blister that had come out on the soles of his feet.

“You all see, I should have become a combat medic.”

“Yes, curing blisters from the feet and that your hands smell like cheese is very sexy.” Penkala was mocking Muck. He lit a new cigar.

“ And if not, why is he successful?” He took the cigarette from Penkala’s lips, forcing him to take another.

“If I was a woman, I would smell his hands smelling of feet every day.”

“If you were a woman would you have a date with Roe before me?” Muck was outraged. Guarnere, Shifty, Gordon and Bull laughed.

“I would also have a date with Roe before you.” Malarkey looked from Roe to Muck. “Look at him, he's sexy.”

Muck sat on the floor, looked at where Eugene Roe was and imitated him. He was crouched down making a small cushion with bandages so with that it would not hurt Hoobler when he walked. Muck imitated him.

“You see?”

“No, it's not the same.” He shook his head, wrinkling his nose as he compared Roe and Muck.

“Roe's look has something. It is deep.”

“Penkala, I'm starting to worry.” Guarnere looked surprised at his friend. He looked at Roe. “But yes, his look has something.”

“Now? I started worrying a while ago.

“By the way.” Bull interjected. “But one of the two asked Roe if he would have a date with you. He may have rejected both of you.”

“Of course he would say no. Neither of you two is me.” Luz appeared accompanied by Perconte, Popeye and Toye.

“I still do not understand that you are fighting for Roe.”

“Have you seen what they give us for dinner? I find it incredible.” Liebgott appeared with the dinner in his hand.

The dinner consisted of bread with butter and a slice of ham, since they could not light the field kitchens. They had tried for almost an hour but they had not succeeded. Liebgott was not the only one outraged. All the soldiers were outraged and even more, when they were told they could not repeat. At that moment they missed the food in Toccoa's kitchens. None of them believed that one day they would miss it.

“But think of beautiful things, there are stars.”

“Fuck the stars, we can’t eat the stars and I'm hungry.”

 “Liebgott, I have something you can eat.” Guarnere grabbed his crotch.

“I want real food, that does not even give me a starter.” The comrades who were there laughed.

When they went to sleep started to snow again. Many of them slept with all their clothes on. Luz said that he would not sleep with the helmet because it was too uncomfortable and he stuck it in his head.

 


	4. Second day

 

 

It was six o'clock in the morning. During the night it had been raining and now everything was covered by a thick layer of frost. He had slept in the most uncomfortable way possible. He didn’t have the sensation either of having slept or of having rested. He had woken up at different times during the night looking for the more comfortable position than the ground and the stones allowed him. It had been cold all night. The body hurt him in a terrible way. George Luz cursed Colonel Sink and the Japanese inwardly and wondered where all those towns that they had to cross in the direction of Atlanta were. He yawned tired before opening the tent and letting the icy cold of the morning hit him squarely. The canvas of the tents creaked as if it were the fragile sheath of a peanut.

“Look what feet I have. They look like pig hooves.” Guarnere complained from the tend next door.

“Only that? Fucking luck. I have body parts that hurt and I did not know that I had it in my body.” Perconte complained as he massaged his left shoulder.

“Someone should inform Guarnere that it is normal to have pig hooves, when one is a fucking pig.”

“You complain about nothing. You have not slept with a fucking Irishman. Their farts smell as dead. What do you think Malarkey.”  Muck threw the dirty sock at his tend companion.

“That you are an exaggerator. My farts smell like roses. I have one of good morning, you want to check it.”

“I'm going to ask for a partner change. Disgusting.”

“Shit! I can’t wear the damn boots.” Luz throws the boots against the ground with rage after trying for the third time to put them without success. “Look at my fucking feet.”

“You have not seen Popeye's. They are a giant blister. It seems that is alive.”

“Have you seen Cobb’s? He had them in flesh lives. Fuck, hurt just thinking about it.” Penkala shuddered. “Roe is doing magic so he can put on his boots.”

“You know if someone has taught Roe how to do massages. God, everything hurts. I want a five-star hotel for tonight.”

“Company Easy, we are leaving in twenty minutes, hurry if you want to have breakfast. Winters raised his voice above all the conversations so they could hear him. He repeated the phrase about five times while dodging tents, rifles, boots and soldiers.

“Eh, I do not get the fucking boots either and it's my fucking number.” Toye complained, trying to put on his boots once again without success.

The boots and socks were frozen; they were forced to remove the laces to put them on. The feet hurt, they were swollen and full of blisters and it was one of the most complicated things that they did that morning. The other was getting dressed, the clothes were the same or colder than the boots, it was packed. Another thing was to pick up the stores and re-fold them for not bother during the day. The rifles, machine guns and mortars were stuck to the ground and frozen.

The breakfast was the same that they had dined. Joe Toye would have thrown it to the ground if it had not been because he was hungry.

“Of who was the fucking idea of becoming a volunteer parachutist?”

“Yours? For something you are voluntary.” Eugene Roe was passing by Toye's side at that moment; he still had a couple of people left to cure his feet.

“Doc remind me why we're friends.”

“Because I heal your feet full of blisters.”

“Take Gene, I've had breakfast for you, although you may have been stuffed with cheese.” George Luz approached.

“Sure is better than cheese.” He smiled in that characteristic and inimitable way.

That morning, although it was not a bright day, they could see the sunlight. It came with difficulty to the ground, the clouds chased each other; but it was better than nothing. It was a warmer day than the day before although it was still cold, the roads were muddy and the temperatures were around zero degrees. They appreciated that at least it was not raining.

On time, at seven, they left. On the second day, the stiff and aching muscles needed several kilometres to warm up. They were numb. They hurt every movement and the boots began to annoy them earlier than the day before. Their feet were much more sensitive and they felt like at every step the stones of the road were stuck in the soles of their feet. The socks bothered them and they wondered if it had not been better to go without. They felt that his body no longer had the strength to hold the rifle, the machine gun or the mortar. They did not feel strong enough to ask Lipton how much was needed for the first break in the morning to annoy him.

“Reading should be prohibited.” Guarnere cursed.

“And volunteer too.” Joe Toye complained.

“It hurts so much that I have no energy to complain.” Perconte complained.

“How much have we been walking?”

“I do not want to know, in case we do not carry as much as we should.”

Throughout the morning the sky became cloudy again and the little warmth that came from the weak rays of the sun disappeared. After the first break they had learned that sitting was not as good as they thought. It was much harder to get up later and get going again. On the other hand, Eugene Roe had lost count of how many feet he had healed and was beginning to recognize his companions by the smell of his feet and the shapes of his fingers.

At some point that morning, without knowing what kilometre he was and without wanting to know, Johnny Martin's feet stopped hurting and he could enjoy the jokes of his companions again. They were one less concern, though now he wondered if he had died and his body was still walking by sheer inertia. He had been marching for so many hours that he could not do anything else. He came to consider, seriously, that he would have died when Captain Sobel's vision ceased to bother him and to wake him up that usual, and already known, feeling of hatred. Although he hoped not; He was not yet a paratrooper nor had he been able to kill Germans. He kept walking. Nothing was going to stop him from becoming a parachutist.

That morning they did not see any of those towns that they had been promised to cross.

“I can’t believe we're eating a hot meal.” George Luz let the smell of food fill his nostrils, although it was not like his mother's food.

“How can you call food to this? It looks like vomit.” Perconte complained.

“Give it to me if you do not want it.” Malarkey tried to take it from him. For Malarkey everything was better than nothing.

“What do you say? Yes, of course, I want it.

“For Malarkey it's easy to eat anything, he's Irish. Hey, Gene! We have taken your food, come.” He was informed by George Luz when he saw that Eugene was going to queue. He raised his plate of food so he could see it.

“For me, you do not do these things.” Guarnere complained.

“You will not heal my wounds when we are in the middle of the war. I have to take care of him so that he comes to me first when I call him.”

“I thought you did it because we had something special.” He reproached to Luz as he sat beside him.

“Also for that, also for that.” He smiled at him charmingly, causing the laughter of his companions.

“Holy shit, what kind of food it is.” He wrinkled his nose not very convinced of what was going to be eaten.

“With bread comes better. And with tobacco too.” Guarnere showed him his hands. In one he held the bread and in the other a cigar. “If we have to win a war by eating this, we're fine.”

“Have you seen this? Fucking chefs, they should do training to know how to cook.” Christenson and Talb forced their companions to make room for them in that circle. “Now I think I prefer last night dinner.”

“I’m coming to the conclusion that you complain for pleasure.” Lipton's voice came from above. With the spoon he was mixing the food on his plate, he looked at them out of the corner of his eye, as if he had already seen them too much. He laughed under his nose.

“And what are we going to do? There are no girls, no beer, no dice, no cards, no taverns, no movies, we can’t go dancing anywhere.” Luz told him, with obviousness.

“True, you only can complain.”

“Or spend the day watching Sobel. I prefer to complain.”

“Second battalion, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” Strayer shouted at them.

Ten minutes later, the entire second battalion was ready, grouped in their respective companies and in training to depart again. Hoobler did not know how to stand; he did not know how to put to his feet would not hurt him. He had the feeling that the bandage change that Eugene Roe had done was not making any effect on him. He was determinate that he was going to endure until the end, like all his companions; although when they arrived in Atlanta they had to amputate their feet. Five minutes later the formation had completely disappeared and the soldiers joined in groups by affinity.

In the middle of the afternoon fine drops of rain fell again, although to some it seemed more like snow water. If throughout the morning the roads through which they had advanced had been more or less passable, by the end of the afternoon they were again slippery and impossible to cross. The humidity penetrated to the bones and the cold air was like thousands of crystals that were stuck in the skin. They had red noses and purple lips, their hands ached from the cold and they said not to feel the tips of their fingers. They were worried that at any moment the weapons would fall out of their hands because they could not hold them because of the cold.

It was not until nightfall that they saw the first town, but they did not stop; they passed through the central street, surrounded by the comfortable houses and the cordial and endearing greetings of the people who had come to receive and encourage them. Many of them were amused that the children greeted them as soldiers, overwhelmed them that they wanted to take his hands and hug them and they were infinitely grateful that they gave them some fruit even if they could not have stopped. It was a small town, the main street was crossed in two minutes and in five minutes the town was behind them and was a distant shadow on the horizon. The passage through that town had been like when you have a dream and when you wake up you are not sure if you have dreamed it or not.

The dubious snow water ended up becoming definite snowflakes. Like the day before, they did not stop until twenty-three hours. They wondered how long it takes to get to Atlanta. If they would arrive in the morning or afternoon. If they could finally do some of their breaks in some town and sit in a chair. When could they eat a real meal.

“Pass, pass. Away, fuck.” George Luz pulled them away with his arms to make his way. “I've been pissing for more than two hours. I'm going to create a new river.”

“Let's see who pisses more. Timekeeper, Smokey.” Guarnere challenged him.

“Five cigars?”

“Let’s go.”

Guarnere had to give five cigars to George Luz at the end.

After almost camping for an hour and not seeing Malarkey's hair, and it was hard not to see it, there were not many with that hair colour in the Easy Company; they began to worry about him. Malarkey and Muck had set up their tent and before they had even stretched the sleeping bag on the floor, they had already laid down to rest. Neither Malarkey nor Muck noticed the cold that reached them across the floor, they did not hear the voices outside the store, they did not listen as their companions called them, they did not notice how their whole body hurt, they did not even pay attention to the desire to piss that started appearing. The floor seemed to them, at that moment, a bed made of clouds.

“Look! I found him. What do we do? Do we let him sleep?” Perconte asked his companions, although neither he was too sure of wanting to leave Malarkey to sleep peacefully. By his head passed a thousand ideas that could carry out with their sleeping companions.

“The truth is that I have an inner dilemma and I do not know what we should do.”

“Malarkey! Change of plans, raise your ass, soldier; like this you will never be a fucking parachutist, we are leaving.” George Light shouted imitating Captain Sobel's voice. Malarkey's eyes opened suddenly and he stood up to see his companions laughing at him. “Good morning, soldier.” He said still imitating Captain Sobel and with a smile full of amusement and malice on his lips.

Malarkey noticed how his whole body ached and how tired he was, how everything weighed more than it should. He did not have the strength to answer them. He lay down again and prepared to sleep again.

“It is not funny; he has not given us any fucking attention.” Guarnere complained, walking away from the store. “Luz, let me smoke.”

“He should be grateful that we've worried about him. Not everyone would do it for an Irishman.”

“The world is full of ungrateful people, Luz.”

They were just as tired or even more than Malarkey; but they were afraid of not being able to get up if they came to lie down and rest as their companion was doing.

“Do you massage my feet?”

“Luz, if I had hands I would say no, but right now I doubt that I have hands. So no.”

Almost an hour later the rumour that dinner was ready began to spread. At that time it was as if everyone regained their strength, even if they were the minimum to go to the dinner line and thus be able to take something hot to the body. The rumour came to the Malarkey and Muck tend. They both felt that they could not even open their eyes, that their eyelids hurt. They had proposed the idea of staying there sleeping and skipping dinner, but their bellies roared with hunger. Muck managed to get up, thanks to Penkala's help. Penkala helped him get to the kitchen. But Malarkey could not. He crawled on his hands and knees to the line of men waiting to be filled with plates. Eugene Roe saw him and approached him to help him to stand up. He stayed there, waiting in line, again, so that Malarkey could have his plate of food.

“Roe! The food is going to get cold, the fun of this is to eat it hot”. Luz yelled at him, who was in charge of saving his food. "At this rate I'll have to get up and ask for another one.”

“You are a very good boyfriend, Luz.”

“I know, the best one. If he does not attend me the first one in the battlefield, I am going to leave him.” He said with a serious expression on his face. It seemed that he was being serious, his friends laughed. “I'll go find him another one. Fucking doctors.” Luz ended up going to see if he could get hot food for Eugene Roe.

Malarkey felt he did not have the strength, not even, to eat. The gesture of taking food to her mouth seemed more than painful and too long to be able to do it more than once.

“Malarkey.” Winters approached to him. He bent down to face him. “Why not do you do the last leg of the march with the ambulance tomorrow.” Offered. He looked into his eyes, as did Malarkey to him. He smiled kindly, so that he knew there would be no reprisals for that, nowhere.

Malarkey smiled too, shook his head.

“I'm going to finish it on foot.” He assured him full of confidence. His friends smiled and cheered him up laughing. "I have no intention of inviting any of them to beer when we get to Atlanta.”

“As you prefer.” Winters smiled. It seemed to them that he was laughing at them, but they would not know for sure. If Eugene Roe was difficult to decipher, Winters was doubled. Winters moved away from there.

“By the way, guys; but you have a deplorable aspect. Before going to drink beer, it  would be ok to take a shower.” Eugene Roe shot to them like nothing.

“Do you haven’t seen yourself Roe, right.” Luz tapped his back hard. Roe coughed.

“Don't kill us the doctor. Fool.”

Maybe it was because they were so much more tired than the day before, the body hurt a lot more and keeping their eyes open was impossible and painful; but with the same discomfort as the night before, the same cold, the wind that blew without rest, the stones nailing against theirs bodies, the light of the moon and the stars and the snores of the companions, that night they were able to sleep more minutes in a continued way.


	5. Atlanta

 

 

The last day of march was the worst of all. There was no point of comparison with the second, much less with the first. They had more than 120 kilometres travelled; there were still another 60 ahead and the last 30, approximately, by the highway that took to Atlanta. They had to draw strength from where there were not, they looked at their partner and said "if he can do it, I too, I will not be less, I will also be a fucking parachutist".

Putting on his boots was just as complicated as the previous morning, maybe even a little more. Under his eyes began to be traces of weariness, dark circles of having slept little, uncomfortably and badly, the first traces of facial hair showed the head, his face was full of dirt, of mud. They had dirty hair, full of dust and dirt hidden under the helmet. The uniforms were muddy from the first day of the march and smelled like sweat, or depending on who was expressing they smelled like shit. Dirt piled up wherever it might invade. The boots disappeared under a layer of mud. Each and every one of them needed a good shower. They had not passed through water since they had left Toccoa. They had the feeling that the equipment weighed twice as much, as if someone, named Sobel, had put stones in their bags to make the last leg of the trip to Atlanta more interesting.

Although that last day of walking had something good: it was not raining. There were some clouds in the sky but they did not threaten water, they could see the sun and they could see the blue of the sky. That encouraged them, even if it was only a little.

In addition to his officers, the Japanese, his boots, his feet, his uniforms, Atlanta, the paratroopers and his luggage; another of the things they hated, that day, were their weapons. Once, Captain Sobel told them that the weapon had to be treated as if it were his girl, with delicacy and that they should always carry it with them. George Luz was sure that he would have already asked for a divorce. And more than once.

“The divorce and I would have let her take all my things with her.” Guarnere pointed to his entire equipment. Even though the body hurt horrors, they laughed.

“I would let her take me with her.” Begged Christenson.

“Come on, come on, Pat. You can.” Guarnere encouraged him.

Bill Guarnere carried his weight, the weight of his equipment and almost all the weight of Pat Christenson's body. On the other side, Joe Toye, despite having his feet full of blisters and needing someone to carry, too, with him; helped Guarnere for Pat to get to the end. The determination in the young man's gaze was inversely proportional to his fatigue and the almost staggering steps he took.

“You think about all the girls that will be waiting for us in Atlanta.” He wanted to give strength to his partner.

“If they are like the towns that we had to cross, I do not know if I get too excited.” Pat was going to get it, Guarnere was sure of it, he still had the strength to joke.

“Don’t worry Pat, those are real. And in theory we'll be famous when we get there, they'll line up for us.”

"No one will line up for you, Toye.” Pat laughed at Bill Guarnere's comment.

Bill had to stop for a moment to be able to reposition his things and be able to hold his partner well. Two minutes later he was ready to continue.

But Pat Christenson was not the only one who needed help to be able to continue. Malarkey and Muck held each other and Penkala had grabbed his friend's mortar to make it easier for him to move forward.

When they stopped mid-morning to do the first of the breaks, none of them was too sure if at that point they preferred to stop or keep walking, if it helped them or rather hurt them. They did not dare to sit for fear of not being able to get up later. Their bodies were so tired and sore that they kept walking because of inertia and pride. It seemed that the only one who took advantage of those minutes of rest was Eugene Roe, took the opportunity to observe how the blisters on the feet of his companions had evolved and make the necessary cures so that they could continue with the march. Some of them he had recommended to finish it in an ambulance, but after the first three murderous looks he had preferred to stop giving that advice. If someone asked him, then he would speak.

When they resumed their march they decided it was better not to stop. They let their lieutenant know. They did not stop until lunchtime and they thanked him. If they did not stop they could not appreciate how tired they were.

The march on the mud-covered terrain had been difficult, but the cement was even worse for the feet. They did not know what they preferred. By then, the march had generated widespread publicity throughout the state of Georgia, both on the radio and in the press. The towns that had been promised to them began to rise before their eyes. A vociferous crowd lined both sides of the soldiers' route. They received them with cheers and music, shouts of encouragement and applause, with food and drink.

“What I told you, uh, Pat. Women. They are all beautiful.” Joe Toye did not know where to look. His eyes were moving from one side to the other and he was smiling.

“Somebody tell them to throw us food, I would approach them but I do not want to walk more than necessary.” Penkala pleaded.

“Has anyone noticed what town we are?”

“Not at all, it seemed so incredible to see a town that I have not noticed anything else. The town did not seem real to me.”

“How much is missing for Atlanta? I feel like I have strength again.” George Luz stood up as much as he could and more.

“You look like a giraffe.”

“How are you doing Skinny?”

“Wishing to be dead. I hope the fucking krauts have more compassion than Colonel Sink to kill us.” Luz could not help but laugh. He approached his partner and forced him to accept his help.

“At least this time Sink has fulfilled. It's not one of those promises for when we're paratroopers.” Said Liebgott sarcastically.

“You will have passes all the wekends.” Luz imitated Colonel Sink. “Pass cancelled.” He summoned Captain Sobel while his companions accompanied him with laughter.

“We were also told that there would be good food.”

“And comfortable beds. I've been sleeping on the fucking floor for three days.”

“I was told there would be women cooks and I have only seen gorillas carrying large pots.”

“Women cooks?” Perconte looked up from the floor.

“They told me about beautiful nurses and I have to settle with Roe.” Eugene Roe looked sideways at Luz; his tired face was the most acute of all and was somewhat annoyed by that march and the short planning that seemed to be behind it. As if it was talked with many glasses of alcohol and prepared at random and they were thrown to the same fate. “Roe, you are also very handsome.” Luz winked at him. Skinny laughed non-stop.

 “I would like to say the same about you.”

“Did you see that? He broke my heart.”

“Stupid, give me a kiss.”

“Better in private, you know.”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t want to have nightmare with you two.”  Perconte complained making all his friends laugh.

“Nobody told me about the trumpeter who would fuck me every morning with bugles call.” Penkala whined.

“Either about Sobel. Stupid. Bad things are never told to you.” Liebgott said with obviousness.

It was mid-afternoon when they began to see the signs indicating that they were about to arrive in Atlanta. The fact that they stood on the side of the road was a very important increase of morale and encouragement for the second battalion. But the road was still long.

“Lieutenant Winters.”

“Tell me sergeant”

“If Captain Sobel hates me and that's why we were marching every Friday night with the whole equipment, Colonel Sink is looking forward to seeing me dead?

“You should consider changing your company” Guarnere raised his voice.

“Or if you love us, go to the marines and leave Easy Company.” Shouted Martin.

“No, he simply hates us all.” He teased with a half-smile for the sergeants comments.

Nixon looked at Winters as if he was surprised by his sharp sense of humour. Winters saw him, raised both eyebrows asking if he had anything to say. Nixon shrugged, letting him know that he had nothing to object to.

One of the lieutenants of the Dog Company turned to observe the soldiers, attracted by their laughter, which, sixty hours later, still had the courage to joke with their superiors. And between them.

Flags, horns, an elevated platform with some bosses of the High Command of the Regiment and the authorities of the State and of the own city, a great band and many people who had left what they were doing to receive them. Colonel Sink, with his hands behind his back, held his chest and stretched proudly for his boys. The band started playing. They had covered 188 kilometres in 75 hours. The actual running time was 33 hours, 30 minutes, or approximately 6.5 kilometres per hour.

When the music reached his ears something strange happened with most of the soldiers. They straightened up as much as they could, Malarkey came back to retrieve his mortar, and although they were still completely disorganized and the squads had faded and mixed, they finished the march as if they were reviewing in Toccoa. It was as if all the pain had suddenly disappeared. Some of them came to smile and greet all the people who had come out to meet them.

“I told you they would line up for us, I told you.” Joe Toye reminded his companions.

“Yes, now it will turn out that we are going to have to thank the fucking japs.” Commented Gordon sarcastically.

“Exactly. If we go to the Pacific, every time you see one you shoot him in the chest and you say thanks fucking jap, thanks to you I would have fucked in Atlanta if I had not been wanting to die because of feet pain.” Liebgott changed his rifle of shoulder.

“What do you say about foot pain? Because I was not able to move out of bed in a week.”

“Easy Company! Formation, you’re looking like a flock of sheep and you're representing the United States Army.” Captain Sobel's voice came over them all.

The answer was immediate. The squads came back. They had stopped just before entering the square where the band and the authorities were waiting for them. They were going to parade to greet them, Colonel Sink will say a few words and maybe some authority too, and then they could leave, go take a shower, go to the tavern or do whatever they wanted. The band started playing again. Lieutenant Moore, of the 3rd platoon of Company E, was the only man in the battalion who made the entire journey without any help. As a reward, he led the battalion parade through the streets of Atlanta and to enter the square.

Although the prize, of all of them, came when they were able to take off their boots, abandon their weapons, remove their dirty clothes that stuck to their bodies, they were able to take a shower and they were able to lie on beds instead of on the floor. The grand prize came when they were called for dinner time. It was a great banquet and a party in his honour. The sore feet and tiredness disappeared once more. They only asked that Colonel Sink not want to make a new speech in his honour. With one it had been enough.

In the end, Eugene Roe and George Luz won the bet on whether Sobel was going to get to Atlanta or not. He did it, but with help.

 


End file.
